The Dying Fist Tournament
by fight-fan-123
Summary: After the destruction fo DOATEC, a new Tekken tournament is announced...but with some new participants. Chapter 3 Up!
1. Chapter 1: The Invitations

_Note: I do not own any of these characters. All Dead or Alive characters are copyrighted by Team Ninja/Tecmo. All Tekken characters are copyrighted by Namco. This is my first fanfic so be gentle, and any sort of useful critique and whatnot will be greatly appreciated. Apology in advance to those who are fans of characters I did not include like Hayate or Raven._

The Dying First Tournament

Chapter 1: The Invitations

Within the confines of the Mishima Zaibatsu, Heihachi Mishima sat in his comfortable, red leather chair, behind his desk, staring out at the night sky and brightly shining moon. Soon, a young, seductive secretary entered quietly, holding a manila folder under her left arm.

"Mr. Mishima," she began, "the invitations for the tournament have been sent out."

"Good," he said, turning around in his chair, facing her, taking the manila envelope in her hands as he looked at the photos of the contestants. Some of the faces he recognized, but some of them were new to him. The new ones had been participants in the world-renowned Dead or Alive Tournament, which In Heihachi's opinion, was a joke when compared to The King of Iron First Tournament that the Mishima Zaibatsu has been holding for years. After the destruction and collapse of DOATEC, however, Heihachi was interested in inviting some of its combatants into this year's _special _Tekken.

"Also," the secretary continued, "I've just been notified that project BETA-153 should be finished very soon."

Heihachi responded with a simple nod, still looking at various papers and pictures within the folder. Knowing that she had nothing else to say, he waved his hand, sending her away. The respectful woman bowed and left the room. Heihachi finished reading, tossing the papers onto his desk, only to laugh, "GWHAHAHAHA." All was going according to plan.

* * *

Jin Kazama was training as always, striking his sand-filled punching bag with all his strength. Anger ran through his body as he remembered the pain caused by his blood and the death of his mother, Jun Kazama. Lightning struck as he delivered a well-honed kick into the side of the bag, tearing it open. He felt the sand fall to the floor and atop of his bare feet. "Damn it," he quickly replied, "that's the fifth one this month." 

Tired, Jin grabbed a nearby towel and hung it around his shoulders, drying off his sweaty forehead and chest. Soon, there was a loud, almost thunderous knock on his apartment's door. Jin, always one to be cautious, approached the door and opened it quickly. To his surprise, there was nothing there, nothing but a small envelope, saturated by the heavy falling rain. He opened it, and dread soon filled his soul.

It was an invitation to another Tekken tournament. Every tournament brought him grief: his grandfather's betrayal, the bitter reunion with his father, and the awakening of his devil gene. He immediately wondered what was going to happen this time around. Though he thought of just skipping this tournament, he knew that he had to try to prevent whatever diabolical scheme his grandfather was cooking up, or be forced to be a part of it. There was something strange about this tournament though; he was being partnered up with a mysterious girl whom he'd never seen before. She had long, red hair and an innocent, almost angelic face. There was a time and a location for where Jin was to meet the mysterious girl. He read the name softly to himself as he stood on his doorway, the pattering of the rain all around him, "Kasumi."

* * *

Helena woke up in her small, luxurious apartment, hidden high within the Swiss Alps. Helena wanted her life to end with the destruction of DOATEC, but being saved by Zack upon the burning tower's heliport was an epiphany. The former opera singer now tried to reverse all of the problems created by DOATEC and Donovan, not just the Alpha, Epsilon, and Omega projects. 

There was a loud knock on her apartment's door. She grabbed the small pistol in her nightstand's top drawer. Though DOATEC was dead, Helena was never safe from the likes of assassins like that insufferable Christie. Helena had defeated her in DOATEC's grand hall before setting the self-destruct, but Christie was slippery like a serpent. The Pi Qua Quan expert slowly inched opened the door, hiding the pistol behind her back, only to find that no one was in sight. She looked at the ground, finding a small, white envelope. She was quite surprised with its contents. It was an invitation to a tournament being held by the Mishima Zaibatsu, one of DOATEC's Japanese competitors.

Helena rolled her eyes, wondering why they would invite her, the former owner of their top competitor. Soon, however, her cell phone rang. She picked it up slowly.

"Hello?"

A muffled, groggy voice on the other end replied, "Mishima Zaibatsu has Donovan's data from project Alpha."

"What?" Helena replied with a worried expression. "Who is this?"

There was no sound except the simple click of the line being cut on the other end. Helena knew of the Mishima Zaibatsu performing some strange experiments in cloning before, but the Alpha project was dangerous, too dangerous to be redone by anyone. With this, Helena knew she had to enter the tournament. She quickly reopened the envelope and looked at the photograph of her partner, Steve Fox. He looked a bit immature, yet handsome. Hopefully his fighting skills, whatever they were, would suffice. Helena knew she would have to stop Heihachi Mishima at all costs.

* * *

Lei-Fang, the beautiful phoenix, was walking home from morning, college class, silently with a plaintive attitude. After four tournaments, she was still unable to defeat her rival, Jann Lee. This, however, did not depress her. She loved the challenge, having to better her skills for each of their confrontations. After the destruction of DOATEC, however, Lei-Fang became upset, believing she may never fight Jann Lee again. Soon, however, the young fighting genius made her way to her apartment and found a small, white envelope with her name on it. She scratched her hand through her dark brown hair, wondering what was inside. 

Her countenance did not change upon reading its contents. It was the invitation to a fighting tournament. She was to be partnered-up with a girl younger than her, who either just graduated from or is still in high school, named Ling Xiaoyu. She remembered hearing about a Tekken tournament, but was never really interested since Jann Lee never entered. After quickly grabbing her purse from within her apartment, Lei-Fang went to the local market, still wondering if she should enter the tournament or not.

She was reading the invitation, not really watching where she was going when all of a sudden she walked into a stiff, sturdy figure. "Oh," she began, "sorry." Upon looking up, she saw the rigid, strong face of Jann Lee.

"Hey, Lei-Fang," he said plainly with a small, almost unnoticeable grin.

"Oh, Jann Lee," she said with a smile, "I was just thinking about you." Jann Lee rolled his eyes at the statement, hoping she wasn't going to challenge him in the middle of the market. "Did you get an invitation for this Tekken tourney?"

"Actually," he said, pulling an opened envelope from his back pocket, "I did. I'm partnered up with some guy named Marshall Law."

"Really?" Lei-Fang exclaimed with a starry-eyed grin, knowing another chance for her to challenge the fighter had arisen.

"Yeah," Jann Lee replied, backing away slightly, sensing her extreme joy.

"Well, this time, I will defeat you," she said pointing at him, running home like a school girl who's just received an A on a hard test.

Jann Lee shook his head and laughed quietly. He knew she was running home to practice her Ti Chi. She probably forgot all about buying groceries. Jann Lee contemplated buying her some as a favor, but on his measly bouncer's wage, it probably wouldn't be in his best interest. Though they were rivals in fighting arenas, Jann Lee thought of Lei-Fang as a good friend, but she just seemed so obsessed with fighting him all the time. He then looked at the photo in his hand, of the rugged yet powerful-looking fighter, who was also a practitioner of Jeet Kune Do. Jann Lee actually wished he could fight against him instead of be his partner, but maybe being with someone who uses a similar style will help their chances at winning. Jann Lee, never fretting about any fighting tournament, no matter how supposedly dangerous, put the invitation back into his pocket.

* * *

Hwoarang weaved in and out of the early morning traffic back to his apartment, the wind blowing against his bright, red hair. Though he kept his eyes on the road, his defeat at Jin's hands during the last Tekken tournament still bothered him. The worse part is that he'd probably have to wait a couple more years to fight him; Jin always disappeared after the tournaments. While thinking about all this, he quickly arrived back to his apartment, parking his bike in the complex's garage. There, in his spot, slightly stained with oil, was an envelope. 

"Another tournament?" Hwoarang suspected, "this soon?" Excited, the Tae Kwon Do fighter tore the envelope open. His suspicions were correct: another Tekken. He continued reading while making his way back to his apartment. The rules this time around were a little different; he was going to be partnered up with someone. "Hitomi?" he whispered to himself quietly as he observed the picture of the brown-haired girl. "She doesn't look Japanese," he mumbled to himself as he opened his apartment door, "but she is cute." Quickly forgetting about the girl's pretty eyes, Hwoarang grabbed his things to prepare his training, knowing that a chance to fight Jin had arisen yet again.

* * *

Lei Wulong, the super detective, was wondering the packed streets of Hong Kong. The cop was bothered by his failure to arrest Feng Wei, the vicious murderer, during the last tournament. Though he had defeated him, the slippery martial arts expert slipped right out of his grasp. His thoughts were suddenly broken upon feeling someone slip a note in his left hand. The confused copped looked all around, but nobody suspiciously stood out. He looked down at the envelope in his hand and sat down in a nearby bus stop and opened it, only to find an invitation to another tournament held by the Mishima Zaibatsu, another abhorrent organization he hopes to shutdown. 

Inside was a picture of a platinum-haired, mustachioed Chinese man by the name of Brad Wong. He was to be his partner in the tournament. Lei knew that with his help, maybe he could put Feng Wei behind bars and expose the infernal Mishima Zaibatsu for what it truly was.

* * *

Christie exited the shower, water dripping off her thin, athletic body as she grabbed a towel and entered her bedroom. She looked at the envelope she had found on her doorstep earlier that morning, wondering what its contents were. She placed silky, black lingerie against her pale skin and then began to dry her platinum hair. She then threw the towel aside, letting it land atop the head of her exotic panther's head. She slowly opened the envelope as her pet rubbed itself against her bare leg. 

Inside, there was the invitation to a tournament being held by the Mishima Zaibatsu. The She Quan practitioner shrugged, not really interested in entering. She looked through the information, soon finding the photograph of an insane-looking, white-haired man named Bryan Fury. Something about the man's face, his anger and total disregard for death, intrigued her. It seemed as if there was no longer a soul within his eyes. She now desired to meet the mysterious, Bryan Fury and enter. She then began to become excited for another reason. Maybe Helena would be there too, the tournament serving as another chance for Christie to see the innocent angel once more.

* * *

Asuka Kazama was walking home from school, hearing the rain drizzle atop her umbrella. She sighed quietly as she entered her father's dojo. Since being attacked by the Chinese martial artist, Feng Wei, Asuka's father had fully recovered; however, Asuka was disappointed in herself for not confronting him when she had the chance to enact her revenge. She felt as if she let her father and dojo down. She removed her shoes and began training, hoping that one day she'd be able to confront Feng Wei again. 

Still in her school uniform, Asuka kicked and punched the air around her as she practiced her Kazama style martial arts. Asuka powerful stomped the ground, but suddenly slipped on something, landing face first into the mat beneath her. She rubbed her face and looked down at her socked feet, finding a small, white note. It must have been slipped under the door as she was fighting. "What's this?" she asked herself as she opened the envelope slowly, finding an invitation to the next Tekken. The young fighter was surprised that her chance to face Feng Wei may come much sooner than she originally believed. She studied the contents, discovering the name of her partner, a geisha-in-training named Kokoro. She placed the invitation near her book bag and continued to train for whatever this new tournament may bring.

* * *

Feng Wei, dressed in a red suit, was wondering the downtown city streets of Hong Kong. The Kenpo fighter was angered that Lei Wulong had defeated him during the last tournament. Luckily for him, he was able to slip away without being arrested, but he was still distracted by the thought that he lost, and by that fact he could not recover the Dragon Scrolls from the Mishima Zaibatsu. 

"Give me your money!" a thief demanded as he jab a knife into Feng Wei's back. The insidious fighter rolled his eyes and sidestepped, pulling the thief's knife-wielding arm forward and then powerful striking him in his spine. The thief screamed in pain and lay unconscious on the dirty, alley floor. Feng Wei walked over him. Upon exiting the alley, he found an envelope addressed to him on the sidewalk. He searched the sidewalk to find its deliverer, but the area was abandoned. He opened it slowly, finding an invitation to another tournament. Feng Wei was always in search of stronger warriors to face, but the fact it was being held by the Mishima Zaibatsu meant it was another chance for him to recover the Dragon Scrolls he desired. He continued reading the invitation, finding a photo of a young boy named Elliot. Feng Wei then remembered hearing about a young martial artist whose mentor was the great master of Xynyi Liuhe Quan, Gen Fu. Feng Wei didn't care about the tournament as much as he cared to face the mighty master. Even if Gen Fu would decline to enter, surely this Elliot could tell him of his whereabouts. With a subtle grin on his face, Feng Wei continued his way through the streets, ready to enter the tournament.

* * *

"Come on, Tina, you were a model, actress, and musician," Bass Armstrong complained as Tina was leaving the gym. "I let all three of those slide but now you want to be a painter?" 

"Dad," she began, "you can't stop me. I'm going to win this tournament and use the proceeds to fund my career as a famous artist."

Bass rolled his eyes and stomped the ground loudly, "Not if Craig and I stop you." Tina just waved her hand and ignored him, walking into the woman's locker room. Tina Armstrong was a fantastic wrestler, but she didn't desire to stay one forever. She tried so many other things, but none of them seem to please her. However, she believed that maybe being an artist would make her happy; she remember her high school trips to art museums and begin drawn in by all pieces. If only her father would stop trying to interfere in her life. She picked up the envelope that she had received earlier that morning, the invitation to the elusive King of Iron Fist tournament. Her partner was a renowned capoeria fighter named Christie Monteiro. Tina remembered Lisa's style, and knew that Christie and she would make a good team.

Bass Armstrong shook his head, feeling that he was losing his daughter, but at the same time, something in him said that maybe it was time to let her go. An artist wouldn't be that bad, would it? She wouldn't be using her sex appeal to achieve attention or anything. Nevertheless, the champion wrestler wanted to try and stop his daughter as always by entering the tournament. His grabbed the information from his back pocket and observed the photograph of his partner, Craig Marduk, the formidable Vale Tudo expert. Craig and Bass would surely be an undefeatable, powerhouse duo.

* * *

Kazuya sat alone in a darkened room, observing the photo he had received yesterday in his father's invitation to the next Tekken. After so many years, the possessed fighter still urged to murder his father. He had received the invitation mysteriously on his doorstep, surprised that another tournament would have been announced so soon, but Kazuya couldn't resist any opportunity to face Heihachi, or even his son, Jin. Kazuya was looking at the photo of his young partner, Ayane. She was a beautiful kuniochi with straight, purple hair. Something about her, maybe the supposed innocence created by the ribbon in her hair, reminded him of his first love, Jun Kazama. Despite his demonic soul, Kazuya still felt that an ounce of purity existed within him because of Jun. He shrugged though, doubting that this Ayane would be anything like her. Growing bored, he grabbed a shirt to cover the enormous scar on his chest that he got after Heihachi through him down a cliff as a child and his coat. He walked outside with the photo in his pocket, ready to meet this Ayane.

* * *

Nina walked somberly home from the cemetery after having visited the grave of her father, Richard Williams. She had left flowers there as she used to every year. Though Nina cannot remember all of her past memories, the skilled assassin learned that her and her sister Anna were bitter rivals and blamed one another for their father's death. Nina then held the invitation she received earlier for the latest tournament being held by the Mishima Zaibatsu. She opened it hesitantly, studying the information quickly, finding a photo of a strong-looking man named Bayman. She remembered hearing about the assassin not too long ago and his failure to murder DOATEC's head scientist, Donovan, himself. Through the years of searching for her memories, the discovery of her son, Steve Fox, and the never-ending rivalry between her sister, Anna, Nina still felt there was something missing in her life. 

She sighed painfully, putting the envelope away. She wasn't sure if she was going to enter, but she suspected Heihachi was up to no good. Also, she wouldn't have to worry about Anna this time around due to the pyrotechnic "accident" on the set of their movie a few months ago. Something within her though, knew that Anna was going to come back, and when she did, Nina would be ready, but for now, Nina was going to enter.

* * *

"Niki!" Zack screamed, running to his gorgeous girlfriend, "I was just invited to another tournament. If I win, I'll get just enough money to open Zack Island II!" Niki rolled her eyes as her eccentrically excited boyfriend told her about the tournament. Their adventure in Egypt had gotten Zack out of debt with a nice chunk of cash left over, but it just wasn't quite enough for him. 

She simply replied as she read a magazine, "Just make sure the next one doesn't have a volcano on it, okay?" Niki watched him read the information and energetically pack his suitcase for the latest tournament. Zack was always ready to please his fans and was always hungry for more money and luxury. His plans for a life of leisure always came up a little short though, which obviously could get on anyone nerves after awhile.

Zack studied the information, soon finding out his partner was an American martial artists named Paul Phoenix. "That's quite a hairdo," the green-haired man said as he lifted his sunglasses to get a clearer view of Paul's skyscraper. Without further hesitation, Zack grabbed his suitcase and ran out the door, dragging Niki by the hand for the Mishima Zaibatsu's Tekken.

* * *

Yoshimitsu was grieving over the graves of the deceased members of the Manji clan at the hands of Bryan Fury. Yoshimitsu vowed revenged, but was unable to enact it during the fifth Tekken, for Bryan had just escaped his righteous wrath. The mechanized ninja would not rest before finding his rival and making him pay for his sins. As Yoshimitsu observed the graves, he heard the approach of a kunai, flying towards him. He caught it within mid air, before it struck the tree to his left. He dropped it, equipping his energy sword, preparing to deflect more; however, no more approached. Assuming that it was safe, the ninja picked up the note that was tied to the small dagger. 

It was an invitation to the Mishima Zaibatsu's next tournament. Though Bryan was a great threat, so were Heihachi Mishima and his infernal creations. Yoshimitsu soon discovered the identity of his partner, Ryu Hayabusa, a very skilled ninja, rumored to have died and been reborn. Yoshimitsu quickly analyzed and remembered the information. He crumpled the note, dropping it to the ground, and ran off into the forest.

* * *

Lisa was rummaging through the debris left by destruction of DOATEC's main facility. She was searching for the indestructible safe that contained Donovan's data for the Alpha project. It was probably buried, but she had to find it before it fell into the wrong hands. Suddenly, Lisa heard a helicopter approach. She ran and hid behind a large piece of debris. The men in their black uniforms, armed with high-power rifles searched the debris as she did earlier. From the helicopter came an elderly, but powerful-looking man with wild, white sideburns. 

"Sir," one of the men spoke, "we found the safe."

"Damn it," Lisa whispered. Whoever these men were, they beat her to it.

"Good," the man said, laughing quietly. A few minutes later, the men attached the safe to the helicopter and flew off into the sky. Lisa read the words on the side of the helicopter, which read, "Tekken Force." The young scientist immediately remember DOATEC's rival, the Mishima Zaibatsu. They would do anything for Donovan's data on the Alpha project, and they did.

Defeated, Lisa returned home in disbelief, afraid of what Heihachi planned to do with Donovan's data. Several weeks later, however, Lisa found a small enveloped addressed to "la Mariposa". She laughed, thinking it was just another fan letter; however, she soon discovered it was an invitation to the Tekken tournament. Even the Mishima Zaibatsu mustn't have known of her involvement in DOATEC's affairs. She read the information over quickly, discovering her partner was a luchadore named King. "Wow, how original," she said sarcastically to herself.

Before preparing to leave for the tournament though, Lisa grabbed her cell phone and called Helena Douglas's private line. Helena, if she received an invitation, wouldn't enter unless DOATEC was somehow involved, for like her, Helena desired to destroy all of Donovan's creations. The call was quick and disguised, and Lisa soon grabbed her glittery, white mask, readying herself for this latest challenge.


	2. Chapter 2: The Teams Form

_Note(s): I do not own any of these characters. All Dead or Alive characters are copyrighted by Team Ninja/Tecmo. All Tekken characters are copyrighted by Namco. This is my first fanfic so be gentle, and any sort of useful feedback will be greatly appreciated. Right now I'm establishing character relationships. I promise the action will pick-up after this chapter._

The Dying Fist Tournament

Chapter 2: The Teams Form

Jin Kazama entered the forest slowly, waiting for the arrival of his mysterious partner, Kasumi. He looked up into the brightly shining sun through a whole in the trees' canopy, shielding his eyes from its blinding rays and feelings its warmth against him. The weather was strangely optimistic despite the impending danger of another tournament. As birds flew above him, he heard a light, delicate voice ask, "Jin Kazama?"

The young, red-haired ninja was nervous to approach him. After receiving the invitation, Kasumi actually considered not entering, but after the recent destruction of DOATEC, she intuitively knew that the Mishima Zaibatsu was up to no good. Within the forest, she saw the dark-haired fighter staring into the sky. He was dressed simply, in a white T-shirt and blue jeans, but as Kasumi approached him, she could sense his dark, intimidating aura, and for a split second she almost walked away, wanting to drop everything and escape from it all. She found her courage, however, and knew she must go through with this. She asked if she had found the right person, but there was no doubt in her mind; his appearance was identical to the photograph she had received.

"I'm Kasumi," she replied with a simple smile. Jin looked into her eyes and was distracted by her innocent beauty for a split second. She was wearing a pink turtle neck and white scarf, matching white boots, and a short jean skirt. She was quite filled-out for someone so young. "Is something wrong?" she asked after waiting for Jin to reply.

The fighter shook his head back into reality, and subtly blushed, standing before her. "N-nothing's wrong. I'm Jin," he replied plainly, extending his hand out to hers. She cautiously approached him, shaking his hand. The two stood in silence, staring into one another's eyes, staring into one another's tortured souls. "Kasumi," he began, "Why did you agree to come?"

"I have my reasons," she said in a plaintive tone, turning around, tearing her gaze away from his. "Probably for reasons you wouldn't understand."

"You'd be surprised," he replied, taking a few steps towards her.

"Would I?" she said, looking again into his dark eyes, seeing the hidden sorrow beneath them. He was hiding something from her, from the entire world in fact, and it intrigued her. She then gently caressed his cheek, and suddenly dispersed into fluttering cherry blossom petals. Surprised, Jin stepped back, suddenly thinking that this whole experience was some sort of dream; however, his strange thought had disappeared when he felt Kasumi's poke him in the back, standing there innocently with a amused grin.

Jin was certainly impressed; a trick like that was nothing new to him, but it would most certainly come in handy during the tournament. He smiled at the red-headed girl, and for a split second, he felt a long lost feeling that he hadn't had since his mother, Jun, had been murdered at the hands of Ogre. It wasn't love, but it was some sort of warmth that made his soul, despite the devil gene deep within him, brighten. Kasumi must have felt this two, because she stood next to him, no longer sensing his dark aura.

"I guess we should go," Kasumi smiled, walking away from Jin. He simply nodded and followed her out of the forest.

* * *

Helena had left Switzerland as soon as she had gotten off the phone with the mysterious voice that warned her about the Mishima Zaibatsu's use of the Alpha project. Her invitation had forced her to leave as well with instructions to meet Steve Fox at a sleazy, downtown bar. Helena sat on the uncomfortable barstool, hoping Steve would come, wearing a simple, canary yellow jacket and blue Capri pants with a matching turquoise ribbon. Suddenly the bartender, a short, black-haired man said, pointing across the bar, "That man over there would like to buy you a drink."

She looked over to see a muscular, dark-haired man smile and wink over to her. She rolled her eyes, but never passing up a free drink, replied, "I'll have a cosmo." The bartender paused, having to pull out the recipe from the mental archive. As soon as Helena received her beverage, the man came over to introduce himself.

"Hey, I'm Ed," he said suavely, "and who may you be?"

Helena could sense his arrogance from just his introduction, and ignored him, praying that Steve would come at any moment, so she could leave the abhorrent establishment. The strong man then grabbed her wrist, "Now, pretty lady, when I ask you a question, I want an answer."

Steve entered the bar—late as usual—hoping his partner was waiting for him. _Alright, it shouldn't be too hard to find a hot piece of ass like that in a place like this_, Steve thought to himself, searching the bar for her. Suddenly, he spotted the blonde-haired beauty, waiting with a bored countenance. He whistled to himself; she was even better looking from across the bar. He was about three yards away, grinning like an excited schoolboy, when that jerk came by. Steve knew there was going to be trouble when he grabbed her wrist; then again, he thought he'd be the one causing it.

As soon as the man touched his partner, she jumped from her chair and pushed him arm away and sent a well-delivered palm right into his chest, knocking him over a table. It would have been fine, except the man's flailing body spilt beer over the three burly men at said table. They approached Helena who stood calmly, focused and calm in the heat of a barroom fight. She side-stepped the first punch and kicked the drunkard in the cheek, sending him over the bar. The second man lunge towards her, but she spun around to his back, striking his neck, knocking him to the floor.

Helena couldn't believe what she had gotten herself into. One day she's a millionaire and the next she's fighting drunks in a sleazy bar. After taking down the first two overweight men, the third came at her with a chair. She stood her ground, but before he could even react, a blonde-haired man swiftly came and struck him across the face with the skill of a boxer. He looked over to her with a smile. "Miss Douglas I presume?" he said charmingly in a subtle, British accent.

Helena only nodded, seeing the man come up from behind, ready to strike, but Steve just lifted his fist back, knocking a few teeth out on the barroom floor. "I think we better leave," he said calmly. "Here's for the damage, Gus," Steve said to the tender, leaving him a lavish tip on the counter and laying his charm on even thicker. Upon exiting the bar, following the young boxer, Helena was able to take time to actually get a good look at him and his tacky attire of a blue, Hawaiian shirt and carmine pants.

"So, where'd you learn to fight like that?" Steve asked as the two walked out of the bar.

"It's not important," she said as the two walked in a serious, professional tone, "What's important is that Heihachi Mishima is up to no good. This tournament is much more dangerous than you probably think."

"Hey, hey, I'm not completely ignorant—" Steve explained, running in front of her.

Helena interjected, "Regardless, we'll need to cooperate if were to stop Heihachi's plan."

Steve thought for a second at Helena's domineering words. He nodded in response and the two continued in silence to their next destination for the tournament.

* * *

Strangely enough, Lei-Fang and Jann Lee were told to meet their partners at the same place. The two, young, kung fu fighters entered the local restaurant. Lei-Fang glared into Jann Lee's eyes. As the girl passed him, Jann Lee simply rolled his, knowing it was just an act. Soon, the he spotted his partner, Marshall Law. The strong looking, rugged man came out in a white apron, and suddenly pulled out a white towel, cleaning off one of the abandoned tables. 

_A busboy? _Jann Lee thought, _actually a busman, but still. Oh well, a bouncer's not much better. _He then looked over to Lei-Fang, who couldn't find her partner, and decided to show her up a bit. "Are you Marshall Law?"

"Yeah," he said in a deep voice. Suddenly, Marshall Law saw the young fighter approach him with a flying dragon kick. He sidestepped and held his arms out, taunting him to approach.

Lei-Fang sighed angrily, whispering to herself, "Showoff." She watched them fight as the restaurant goers ignored them as if they were used to people fighting there. The two moved lightning fast, countering one another's punches and kicks. Soon, Marshall did a blackflip in the air, just missing Jann Lee's face. Unfortunately, the older fighter misjudged his flip hit head on the ceiling.

"Damn it!" he cursed, rubbing his head, but quickly rolling to his feet to see the younger Jeet Kune Do fighter rolling on the floor in laughter. Marshall just pointed past him; behind him was an elderly woman holding her slipper. With a sudden thwack, she hit Jann Lee on the back of the head. Marshall began to laugh and then she did the same to him. "What have I told you about fighting in here?" she screamed, chasing the two around. The black-haired woman then grabbed the two by their ears and threw them out. "You're fired!" she screamed as Marshall hit the sidewalk hard. Jann Lee, who was rubbing his head, but still smiling like an idiot stood up, and held out a hand to help his partner. Marshall refused and stood up on his own. "You just got me fired, man?"

"Oh," Jann Lee blushed subtly in embarrassment, "I didn't mean for that to happen. I'm Jann Lee, by the way, your partner for the tournament."

"Tournament?" Marshall questioned.

"You did get the invitation, right?"

"No, you dumbass, I didn't get an invitation, and now I don't have a job, and I'm still in debt," the man's hysterically crying made Jann Lee feel bad, but he also wanted to laugh.

"Hey, well if you fight with me in the tournament, I'll help you get a job afterwards," Jann Lee offered.

"I guess I don't have a choice. Alright, let's win this tournament," Marshall said, standing up from his pit of despair, raising his fist to the sky. The two then walked off to prepare for the tournament.

Meanwhile, back inside, Lei-Fang continued to look for her partner. The slipper-wielding woman from before sneered at her as she walked by, asking, "What you want?"

Smiling innocently, Lei-Fang replied, "I'm just looking for someone."

"Well, you better not start a fight like those jerks or else," the old woman held up her fist and twisted her wrists, letting the cracking of her knuckles echo throughout the restaurant. Suddenly, a short, young Chinese girl walked in, wearing a short skirt, her black hair in ponytails.

Lei-Fang, recognizing her from the photo and walked towards her, "Xiaoyu?"

"Lei-Fang?" she said, remembering her face from the photo. At this moment, the two girls jumped with glee approaching each other as if they were friends for years. "What have you been up to these past couple of years?"

"Oh, nothing much, going to college and stuff, fighting in some tournament. Ooh, I was invited to this island for two weeks a couple months ago."

"Wow, how was that?" the giddy, young girl asked.

"Cool. I played a lot of volleyball with some friends and bought a bunch of stuff. It was so much fun!" She said smiling.

"Hey," the old woman interrupted, "this isn't a reunion center. Get a table or leave." The two girls just glared at her and walked out.

"It's been so long since grade school, since you moved to Japan, Xiaoyu. What have you been up to?"

"Well, not much really. I just took my entrance exams. I hope I did well. Then, of course, I've been in like, what is it now," she counted with her fingers, "three tournaments. This will be my fourth!" she squealed with a smile in her high-pitch voice. She then looked at her panda-shaped watched, "Oh no, we better hurry up and get ready, we don't have much time." Xiaoyu then ran ahead, Lei-Fang following shortly behind to prepare for the tournament.

"Wait for me!"

* * *

Hitomi, excited for the upcoming tournament and challenge, was waiting for her partner, Hwoarang. As she sat on the wooden, park bench, she pulled out a small picture from her back pocket of her and a young, red-haired man. She sighed longingly at the image, "Ein—I wish you would have never regained your memory." During the short time Ein trained under her father, Hitomi developed a crush. When Ein learned of his past though, she knew there was nothing she could say to stop him from returning to the Mugen Tenshin clan. The ninja, Hayate, would be forever out of her grasp. 

She then pulled out another photograph of a young, Korean man, her partner and a practitioner of Tae Kwon Do. He oddly looked a lot like Ein with similar red, shoulder-length hair. Upon returning the photos to her jeans' pockets, Hitomi heard the roar of an approaching motorcycle. The rider stopped right before her, removing the black goggles from his eyes. "You must be Hitomi," he said, stopping the engine, standing before her.

Hitomi's eyes widened as she looked at him; the young, German girl always had a liking to the mysterious type, but the occasional bad boy wasn't out of her range either. Maybe it was his similarities to Ein that she was attracted to, but in that brief moment, Hitomi had forgotten all about the Ninja of the Wind she had earlier admired.

"You okay?" he asked her with smile.

Hitomi awoke from her sudden daze, her cheeks blushing. "I'm alright," she said, standing up to Hwoarang, looking into his eyes. She then looked down towards his booted feet, scanning him. She didn't even care if he was a good fighter; she…she just wanted…Hitomi was getting flustered again.

Hwoarang could see how "bothered" Hitomi was; it was time for them to leave for the tournament. "You wanna hop on?" Hwoarang indirectly teased.

"What?" Hitomi replied in shock by his sudden cheeky, "I'm not like that!"

"I mean on my motorcycle" Hwoarang explained, rolling his eyes, "Geez, and I thought I had a one-track mind." He straddled the seat and padded the area behind him. A blushing Hitomi giggled a bit and got on; as soon as Hwoarang started his motorcycle, she wrapped her arms around his stomach and leaned on his back with a smile.

Hwoarang could tell this was going to be a long tournament…

* * *

Brad staggered down the street—drunk again as usual. He had found a full, unopened bottle of an expensive wine near a local hotel the day before. He had taken a few too many swigs of the white wine, but he wasn't really bothering anyone or at least, he didn't think so. 

"Watch it!" some woman yelled.

"Hey, lady in the red hat," Brad replied laughing a bit. Suddenly, a black-haired Chinese man tapped him on the shoulder.

"Public intoxication is an arrestable offense, sir," the man replied, "You're coming with me."

"Not today," Suddenly, Brad took another swig and swung back at the policeman, who skillfully backflipped out of the way. Suddenly, the busy sidewalked cleared as a small crowd gathered to watch the two fight.

Lei Wulong had forgotten all about the tournament, annoyed by the drunken man fighting him. He was prepared, but was a bit shaky fighting the skillful and quick drunken master. Lei Wulong sidestepped as Brad slid onto the ground, going into a relaxed, lying pose, but suddenly kicking up, almost hitting Lei in the face.

The skillful martial artist stepped back as the drunkard continued his barrage of attacks. He suddenly looked closely at the man's platinum hair and then reached into his pocket, pulling out the photo of his partner for the tournament.

Before being able to stop the fight, Brad rammed his head into Lei's stomach, sending him back into a metal streetlight. "HAHAA! Have you had enough?" Brad asked, taking another swig from the half-empty wine bottle.

Lei moaned in pain, holding his stomach and rubbing the back of his head, "Are you Brad Wong?"

"Maybe," his partner replied cockily, lifting his one leg up in for a few seconds, still wanting to fight. Brad then drank from the bottle one more time and soon coughed something up. It was a wine-soaked envelope. He slowly opened it up, still sputtered from almost choking on it. It was his invitation to the tournament, inside was a fading photo of Lei. "Ahh," he replied, "you must be Wei Lulong."

"That's Lei Wulong," the cop replied, rolling his eyes, in disbelief that his partner for the tournament was a drunkard, but at least he had above average fighting prowess.

"Whatever you say, Wei," Brad replied, hiccupping quietly. "Another tournament, another chance to find Genra!" he screamed, spinning around only to fall right into some sidewalk garbage tins.

"Let's go!" an irritated Lei replied, lifting Brad to his feet, carrying him to their next destination for the tournament.

* * *

The inhuman monster known as Bryan Fury entered the dark alley alone, waiting to meet his partner. "This is the spot," he said in his bullet-tattered green vest. Suddenly he heard something; he couldn't quite make it out, but it sounded as if a serpent was approaching. He turned around, seeing the pale-faced assassin emerge from the shadows. She smiled seductively and approached him. 

"Bryan Fury I presume?" she stated, slowly stepping towards him, tracing a finger under his scarred chin.

He pulled his head away, "Yeah." His disgust was only a mask; despite the fact that he technically wasn't alive anymore, wasn't human anymore, Christie's sleek, leather-clad body, barely hiding her breast, still awakened his libido. His sexual urges were strong, but he hid them well.

Christie could see through his mask; he, like so many other men, desired her. Like so many, her beauty lured men to their deaths, but for once, it wasn't doing so. "We should get going," she said, commanding him to follow, provocatively swaying her hips as she walked. Soon, the two shadowy figures had disappeared into the alley's darkness, ready for the tournament and whatever electric, excitement might occur…

* * *

Kokoro, who still wearing her pink and white kimono, was walking home from her geisha training. Her partner, Asuka Kazama, was probably already waiting for her. "Oh no! She's going to think I don't want to enter!" Kokoro hurried, when suddenly three older teens, disrespectfully blocked her path. 

"Hey, boys," the tallest, blonde-haired one said, "look at the little geisha. You in a hurry or something?" Kokoro didn't reply, desperately trying to find her way around them. "I think she's lost." Frustrated, Kokoro kicked him in the shin and the elbow him in the face, knocking him out cold, flat on his back. The guy to her left then took a swing at her, but she ducked under him and continued to run for her appointment, stepping on the unconscious lug in front of her.

_Great, not only may I miss my chance to enter the tournament, but now I got two angry jerks after me. Could this day get any worse? _She mentally questioned.

Asuka had been waiting for Kokoro for over an hour. She sighed and decided that she wasn't coming. As she was walking out, she saw a geisha-in-training running towards her, waving. She smiled, knowing it must have been her partner. At the same time, she saw two thugs chasing her down. She glared and started to run towards her.

"Asuka!" the young girl yelled. When the met up, Kokoro stopped running, gasping for breathe; however, her partner kept running and kicked one of Kokoro's pursuers in the face and powerfully punched the other in the nose.

He fell to his knees, screaming, "You broke my nose you bitch!" He went off, crying to his mother, ignoring his now-unconscious friends.

"That'll teach them," Asuka said, nodding her head. She then turned around and walked a few steps to Kokoro. "Hi, Kokoro, I'm Asuka." Kokoro simply bowed.

"That was some skilled fighting, Asuka. I am glad that you are my partner," she said with another slight bow, smiling.

"Oh, cut out the formality," Asuka said to the stiff girl, grabbing her arms and giving them a gentle shake, "You need to loosen up!"

"A-alright, let's go win this tournament!" she said jumping up with joy, and with that, The two then ran off to get ready.

* * *

"So you're the apprentice of Gen Fu?" Feng Wei asked as he stood in front of the young, British lad, towering over him. The invitation had directed the two warriors, both apprentices to great masters, to meet in Hong Kong's dark alleys. 

"Yes," the blonde-haired teen replied, showing no signs of fear as he stared into the dark eyes of his partner. Elliot was not afraid of Feng Wei, despite the murderous intent he could sense hiding within him.

"Why would he choose someone like you?" he asked, almost sneering at him in disgust.

"That's a question I've been trying to answer for some time," Elliot looked to the ground plaintively, remembering the years of harsh training under Gen Fu's iron fists. He then looked up to Feng Wei with his piercing blue eyes and began, "You too must have had a master at one time. Did he—"

"My master was a fool," Feng Wei interjected. "He knew about power, but refused to use it."

"Who was your master?" Elliot asked.

"That's not important. What's important right now is the Mishima Zaibatsu's tournament. Are you ready?"

"Yes. Gen Fu told me I need more practice, and I will take any opportunity to do so."

"Good. Your master sounds much more intelligent than mine. Maybe after the tournament—win or lose—I can meet this, Gen Fu," he said with arrogant smirk. Elliot fell silent, hearing rain pelt the city streets around then. "We should get going," Feng Wei directed and led the way, followed cautiously by Gen Fu's young apprentice.

* * *

Tina Armstrong entered the park and sat on a bench as the sun shone brightly on her tanning skin. She fanned herself off with her hand, taking a seat next to an elderly man feeding the birds. She looked over to him and smiled. He smiled back creepily, staring at her large breasts. She quickly turned out from the leering old lecher and looked towards the nearby fountain. There, she saw two people dancing—or at least she thought it was dancing at first. The man and woman, both of them barefoot, wearing large baggy pants, were rapidly kicking the air, flipping acrobatically, almost break-dancing. She then looked down at the photo of her partner, recognizing the mahogany skin of her Brazilian partner, Christie Monteiro. 

"Christie!" she screamed and ran over with a smile on her face. Suddenly, the two distracted fighters stopped sparring and looked over to the blonde-haired woman running towards them.

"Can I help you?" Christie asked.

"It's me, Tina," she replied, "your partner for the tournament."

"Oh," Christie said despondently. She approached her slowly, biting her lower lip.

"What's wrong?"

"Well, I don't know how to put this easily, but," she paused and sighed, "I don't want to enter."

"What?"

"Well, I don't need to. After the last tournament, I got enough money for my grandfather's operation and everything's finally back to normal. I only showed up today so I could tell you in person."

"Oh," Tina replied, disappointed. She was caught off guard completely, unable to even try a little compromise.

"Wait, Christie, not so fast," her sparring partner, Eddy Gordo, injercted, then looking at Tina, asking, "Why did you want to enter the tournament in the first place?"

Tina thought about it carefully, replying, "Well, all my life my father has been trying to make me follow in his footsteps and be a professional wrestler, and though I'm good, I don't want to stay one forever, so I've been participating in the Dead or Alive tournaments to fund other jobs, but they never worked out as I'd like them to. I was going to use the proceeds from this tournament to fund an art career."

"Art?" Christie questioned.

"Yeah, like sculpting and painting. It's always been a real, private passion of mine that few people know about."

"Well," Christie said, looking to the ground, "Let's go then!" she said happily, jumping in the air.

Tina immediately smiled and hugged her, "This is great! Thank you so much!" Eddy rolled his eyes, but was happy to have helped with the cause. As the two jumped for joy, the old man from before continued to leer, soon smiling creepily on the park bench, forgetting about feeding the pigeons at his feet.

Meanwhile, Bass entered the gym across from the park to meet Craig Marduk, the vicious Vale Tudo fighter. Bass parked his motorcycle outside and entered the gym, spotting the mammoth fighter, who stuck out like a sore thumb in the crowd, attacking a large, red punching bag. The others in the gym soon gasped that such a famous face would enter their lowly gym. One of them, a kid of fifteen, even asked for his autograph, which he gladly signed neatly in black ink.

Craig turned around, wondering what all the commotion was about. He soon spotted the great wrestling champion of the DWA, Bass Armstrong. Craig cracked his neck and walked over to him, asking, "So you're my partner, huh?" Bass turned around to see him and the reflection shining of his shaven head.

"Y—" but before he could even finish, Craig threw a powerful left punch towards Bass's jaw. The crowd gasped, a deafening silence filling the gym. "Now what was that for?" Bass said as he held Craig's fist firmly in his grasp.

"Just testing your reflexes," Craig said arrogantly, forcefully pulling his hand from the wrestler's grasp. Craig then retreated to the locker room and soon exited, wearing a black vest and ochre, leather pants. "Let's win this thing," he said confidently, shaking Bass's hand, while holding his gym bag in the other. Bass nodded in agreement and soon the two left the establishment, ready to enter the tournament.

* * *

Kazuya Mishima entered the forest in casual clothing, wondering if his mysterious partner, Ayane, would actually show. He stared above at the canopy of crimson and golden leaves above him, watching some of them fall towards dirt, ground below. Suddenly, a powerful gust of wind came by, causing several leaves to drift past him. He grabbed one that flew past his back. He opened his fist, finding an orange leaf in his palm, but soon tightened his fist, letting the leaf's shard drift in the wind. 

"Ayane I presume," he said, sensing the kuniochi behind him. She slowly approached him, dressed in dark violet ninja attire. Kazuya turned around, seeing the lavender-haired vixen, the dark, intimidating glare in her eyes. She no longer wore the violet ribbon in her hair, and a small scar, created by a bullet's grazing, was present on her cheek. Ayane was certainly not the innocent woman he assumed she was from her photo.

"You should leave," she stated, "I have no intention of entering the Mishima Zaibatsu's tournament."

"Then why did you come?" he said calmly, approaching her slowly to get a better look at her fairness. "Besides, this involves you as much as it does me."

"How so?" she questioned, staring into the various scars embedded on his face.

"You may have destroyed DOATEC, but you didn't destroy its ideas. My father—"

"Heihachi Mishima?" Ayane asked for clarity.

"Yes," Kazuya said with a slight tone of anger added to his voice, "My father actually tried to hire DOATEC's top scientist on several occasions, but he refused. After DOATEC's destruction, my father sent in his private army to retrieve anything they could from the refuge. They found something very important and equally as dangerous: the data to a Project Alpha."

"Project Alpha?" Ayane questioned, "But what does he plan to do with it? And how do you—"

"He'll probably sell it off to the highest bidder if it doesn't destroy him first, and I'll just say I do my research," he said with an arrogant smirk. "I, as much as you, want to stop him from manifesting the project, and the only way we can do that is by entering his tournament together." He then stared into Ayane's eyes as a lust grew within him for the young, beauty before him.

Ayane continued to stare into Kazuya's dark, brooding eyes, almost enchanted by them. Something about the mature man excited her in a way. Though she could sense a devilish aura emanating from his body, she couldn't help but feel attracted to him, but soon, he felt his fingers touch her bangs, combing through them gently. Ayane suddenly returned to a state of composure, batting his hand away and turning around several times, coming back with a powerful kick.

"So you like to spin, huh?" he asked as he held her ankle inches away from his face. He then pushed her away into a tree and began performing a spinning uppercut. Ayane quickly rolled out of the way, watching Kazuya's fist tear through the bark of the tree behind her. He stood there as the tree fell to the ground with a large thud, electrical, dark energy still pulsing through his arms. Kazuya then began to walk away, "It's up to you, Ayane. If you want to help me, come along. In the end, I won't care either way."

Ayane did not respond with words, she only followed him out of the dense woods in silence.

* * *

Bayman stood on the abandoned street corner, his arms crossed, and his massive back leaning against the brick wall behind him in jeans, a vest, and green beret. Though he didn't care to partner up for a fighting tournament, especially one with no target, he waited anyway, curious to meet a fellow assassin, especially one with a reputation as prestigious as Nina Williams'. 

An old, wrecked car rolled by, its engine screaming loudly with a sudden burst, bringing him back to the horrific childhood memory, the reason he so longed to become an assassin. Bayman only regretted that he couldn't see the life drained from Donovan's eyes; however, with the maddening fool's death, maybe he should just let horrific memories and murderous desires go.

"Bayman?" a silky, feminine voice asked.

The strong, Russian man turned his head, seeing the blonde-haired woman standing there in a violet trench coat. She reminded him of Helena Douglas, the daughter of one of his earlier assignments. She seemed much more mature, however, and much more deadly.

As Nina stared into his dark eyes, she wondered if maybe it was all a trick and that she had been sent to test out one of the newest JACK prototypes. Maybe even an assassin sent by Anna as revenge for ruining her chance to be a star. Either way, Nina slowly reached into her petticoat as…

…Bayman began to believe that this was all an elaborate setup; that he was just targeted about by a distant relative of Donovan's. Nina surely would have turned out the opportunity to eliminate some competition. With such thoughts running through his mind, Bayman reached for the eight-inch knife hidden in his vest, pulling it out suddenly to deflect Nina's first attack.

"Seems like someone's just as paranoid as me," Nina replied.

Like before, Bayman stayed silent, still prepared to thwart another attack.

Nina placed her knife back into her jacket, continuing, "Well, if you were a JACK, you'd be firing already, and you acted too slowly, so I mustn't be your target. It's always nice to meet a _friend_," she said with a seductive look in her eyes.

"My thoughts exactly," Bayman replied in his thick accent, spinning the knife and skillfully, replacing it into his vest's hidden pocket. The two continued down the streets in silence while Bayman asked himself silently, "_What's a JACK?_"

* * *

Zack entered the small, seemingly abandoned gym. He looked at the sign above it, which used to read "Paul's Gym", but its letters were tattered and broken, making it unreadable. Unaccompanied, Zack entered, finding his partner punching a red, handing sandbag, wearing jeans and a white shirt. His hair wasn't the skyscraper from before, but his face was unshaven and dirty. 

"Hey," Zack yelled out, "you Paul Phoenix?"

Paul gave the bag a sudden forward thrust, sending the bag flying high towards the ceiling, asking, "Yeah, what do you want?" Paul suddenly looked back, seeing the bag flying back towards him and screamed upon hearing

"HEEEY-YOO!"

Zack had turned around a sent a spinning punch into the bag, breaking it from its chain and knocking it into the wall. Paul sighed in relief, finding his partner _worthy_.

"Good punch," Paul replied, holding his hand out to shake Zack's.

"Well, you should expect no less from the Muay Thai King!"

"King you say?" Paul replied, scratching his straggly beard, "I was the Tekken King once, but—"

"YAHOO!" Zack yelled jumping for joy, "Then we should have no problem winning this thing! With the winnings I'll definitely be able to open up Zack Island II!"

"Zack Island?" Paul asked, confused. As the two left, prepared to leave for the tournament, Zack retold the story of his lavish island and the voluptuous volleyball tournament held there.

* * *

Hayabusa and Yoshimitsu stared one another down. They had met in the bamboo forest under the moonlight. "Why should I enter this tournament?" Ryu asked. "DOATEC's been destroyed. I have no vendetta against the Mishima Zaibatsu." 

"The obvious is often missed, Ryu," Yoshimitsu replied. "Why would Heihachi invite you, a contestant from the last DOA tournament?"

Ryu was silent, curious to what the wise alien-like, mechanical ninja would reply as a sudden wind drifted through the forest.

"Most of the tournaments are just masks to hide the disgusting faces of truly disturbing ogres. Maybe he's using this one to hide the face of DOATEC's most deadly creation."

Ryu's eyes in shock, "You mean the revival of Project Alpha? But the data must have been destroyed—"

"When a forest burns down, new life can sprout, if nature just finds the right seeds" he sighed, knowing that his poetic words were getting a bit off subject. "Your assumptions are possible; however, a super ninja like you should have no trouble dealing with the Zaibatsu's security. Together we prevent Heihachi's plan from ever manifesting."

"What if he isn't planning anything up his sleeves, what if it really just a tournament?" Hayabusa asked.

"You surely do not know Heihachi then, but if you are correct in this one, rare instance, then we will just be in another tournament."

Hayabusa simply nodded and the two ninja quickly vanished from within the bamboo forest, prepared to fight and even possibly save the world…

* * *

Lisa, now known as La Mariposa for another several months, kept her mask on as she entered the abandoned stadium. Only several, strong spotlights lid up the canvas ring, shining upon another masked figure. Lisa approached him slowly, jumping acrobatically over the top rope. She stared at the muscle, tanned back of the strong, jaguar-masked wrestler, the proud luchadore. 

"Are you _La Mariposa_?" he asked Lisa. She rolled her eyes, sick of wearing a mask all of her life, hiding her identity.

"No," she replied, "My name's Lisa," she said, removing her mask, looking into the green, fierce eyes of the jaguar. King's hidden eyes showed surprised that the luchadora would remove her mask so suddenly. "Listen," she said, "the Mishima Zaibatsu is planning to release a terrible evil unto the world."

"Evil?" King replied.

"It's hard to explain, but we need to stop it before it's too late. Heihachi doesn't understand what he has in his grasp. It could destroy the whole world. So, King," she began to reach up and remove his mask, only to have the jaguar push her away fiercely.

"I'll help, but I will always be King!" he said, turning around, crossing him arms.

"A-alright," a startled Lisa replied, "she then picked up her motley, discarded mask and replaced it onto her face, "and for the time being, I will be _La Mariposa_!" she screamed, grabbing King's attention. He turned around and smiled underneath his mask. From there, the two wrestlers exited the arena, prepared for the tournament. Lisa had mixed feelings about the tournament: on one hand, she was excited by the thought of fighting, but at the same time, she was afraid—afraid they'd be too late to stop Heihachi's scheme, whatever it was.

* * *

The golden-haired secretary re-entered Heihachi's dark office. "Sir, all the invitees have confirmed." 

"Are the accommodations ready for them?" he asked, while staring out the windows of his office at the darkened sky.

"Yes, sir," the woman replied.

"Good, very good," he said in his deep voice, "GWAHAHAHA!" He laughed loudly, overly pleased, everything was going according to plan…


	3. Chapter 3: Prelude to the Opening Gala

After...damn forever...here's chapter 3 to this long fanfic. It's pretty crappy, but just to get the story moving. The next chapter will lack action, but i'm going to try to be more funny in this one, and it'll probably be long, and for all the people who wanted me to, I included two new characters. There's still a few missing, but I doubt I'll be able to fit them in. Anyway, comments and the like will be greatly appreciated, thanks.

Chapter 3: Prelude to the Opening Gala

The thirty-two warriors had been led deep into the jungle of Heihachi's secluded island by several members of Tekken Force—the Mishima Zaibatsu's trained army. Soon, they came to a clearing, spotting Heihachi as he stood, mightily in a maroon, furry-collared jacket, prepared to greet them.

"Welcome!" he exclaimed, laughing loudly, holding his arms out warming. When silence fell over the small crowd of fighters, Heihachi continued to speak, speeches about strength and power as the warriors silently conversed with one-another

* * *

"I take it that's Heihachi?" Helena asked Steve silently. He looked over to his partner and nodded. Helena looked at the wild hair of the elderly man, thinking that he didn't seem so tough, but of course she had underestimated the iron fist, Gen Fu, in a similar way and had paid for it dearly. Either way, she could tell in his eyes that he was nowhere near innocent.

* * *

Heihachi continued to speak when two of his newest bodyguards, dressed in black, wearing dark sunglasses, walked beside him. Suddenly a red-haired girl from the crowd screamed, "Nii-san!" She seemed as if she wanted to run up, but a purple-haired girl stopped her.

* * *

Ayane had prevented Kasumi's rash action despite the burning anger in her own heart. Somehow, Heihachi had gotten Hayate, her beloved half-brother, on his side, but Ayane knew the just leader of the Mugen Tenshin clan would never do such a thing. She then began to wonder who the other, dark-skinned warrior was. Somehow by his movements, she could tell that he knew ninjitsu and would most definitely be a dangerous adversary in the near future.

* * *

"Now in all honestly," Heihachi said, concluding his speech, "I know that many of you dislike me. Hell, some of you downright hate me," with this he stared in the dark, brooding eyes of his own son, Kazuya. "Either way, please cooperate with the tournament's procedures," he paused, "or else!" and suddenly from within the foliage over 260 members of Tekken Force appeared, equipped with semi-automatic guns, aimed at the warriors. 

_

* * *

And I thought Donovan was paranoid _Christie thought to herself, feeling the butt of the gun in her back, poking her forward. She wasn't surprised that they were being taken prisoner now, forced to fight in this tournament. However, she also knew that the thirty-two of them could easily takedown Tekken Force, but of course, there'd be casualties, and no one wants bullets in them. Christie was calmed as the force led them to what appeared to be a massive, luxury hotel of sorts. She then suddenly spotted Helena in the crowd. She smiled, surprised that the precious opera singer would attend another tournament. Unfortunately for Christie, with Donovan's death, the contract on Helena died too; then again, Helena's vengeance would never die. The two would be forever linked by a chain of hate and misfortune.

* * *

As the warriors entered the humongous hotel they were led to their rooms by Tekken Force, their personal, armed bag boys.

* * *

Lei-Fang was originally nervous because of the armed gunman, but what made her even more nervous was how calm her partner, Xiaoyu, was. When opening the door, however, she gasped in amazement. It was the nicest suite she ever stayed in! Now, DOATEC did accommodate its contestants, but nothing compared to the majestic room she was staring into, her jaw gaping open as she dropped her bags. 

"Wow!" she exclaimed. Xiaoyu laughed a bit, knowing that this was nothing new really. It was a bit more than the earlier tournaments, but it was still just another luxurious accommodation. The guards soon closed the door behind them, locking it. Lei-Fang immediately became nervous, pounding on the heavy, metallic door.

"Don't worry, Lei-Fang," Xiaoyu replied.

"How can you stay calm? They just locked us in!" Lei-Fang exclaimed, almost pulling a chunk of her long black hair out.

"We're fine. Heihachi just wants to make sure we don't run away or something."

"Where would we go?" Lei-Fang questioned, "We're on a secluded island."

"Knowing Heihachi, it's not that he won't want us to leave, but it's that he won't want us to see what he's hiding."

With that comment, Lei-Fang's face went blank.

* * *

As soon as Jin and Kasumi entered their room, Kasumi sat on the bed and began to stare at the floor contemplatively as if in shock. Jin wasn't the best counselor, but he tried his best, sitting beside her, when suddenly she wrapped her arms around him, just wanting to be held. 

"W-what's wrong," Jin asked, pulling her arms away, staring into her reddened eyes.

"My brother," she spoke, "one of those two men beside Heihachi was my brother, Hayate."

"What?"

"I don't know how, but Heihachi got my brother to work for him. H-he must have been brainwashed or something; he'd never do that."

"Well, it wouldn't be anything new for Heihachi," Jin replied, disgusted that he was related to a man like Heihachi.

"Please," Kasumi began to ask, "Please help me save him, no matter what."

"I, I promise, Kasumi," Jin said, stroking his hand through her bright, red-hair. With this, Kasumi wrapped her arms around Jin, hoping to reduce the stress she felt inside her.

* * *

Ayane stared out at the ocean view from the window as Kazuya unpacked his bags, seemingly unbothered by their armed escorts and temporary imprisonment in luxury. She then wondered about Hayate. _Why? Why would Heihachi manipulate him_? 

"Didn't your half-brother lead the attack on DOATEC?" Kazuya asked entering the room.

Almost startled, Ayane turned around, replying after a brief pause, "Yes."

"Because I've been trying to wonder why my father would have brainwashed him to be one of his bodyguards."

"Brainwashed?" Ayane replied.

"Yes, brainwashing, an art the Zaibatsu has almost perfected. I'm pretty sure he of all people would never side with Heihachi—by choice. Heihachi probably feared he'd help destroy his corporation next after the destruction of DOATEC."

Ayane was silent, surprised that her partner was so well informed. "Who was the other warrior beside Heihachi, the dark-skinned man?"

"Raven—a lone ninja and mercenary. I fought him during the fifth tournament, discovering he was a spy of sorts. I wondered what happened to him after the tournament, but I guess now I have my answer."

Ayane was silent, somewhat glad she decided to enter, but only glad so she could save her half-brother and stop the diabolical plot Heihachi had planned.

* * *

Sammy, the head doorman of the hotel, was directed to greet the newcomers and offer them gifts. He went from room to room, greeted by various individuals: some mammoth and old, some young and petite, some were beautiful, others were disfigured, and some where even masked. The elderly manager wasn't afraid, especially with all the armed guards everywhere. He gave them their boxed gifts, saying to all of them: "Mr. Mishima would like you both to have this gift and hopes that you wear it while attending the tournament's opening gala." 


End file.
